F Is For Forts
by BlankCanvas23
Summary: It's a snowday in South Park, and the boys are going to build a fort. But can a pineapple, lace, a tombstone, a hat, and a gift voucher change their plans? A challenge fic. Rated M for lang.


F Is For Forts

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_A/N - _

_Curse you Joys! Another one of her brilliant ideas, involving us staying up late and writing._

_We are so cool, ne?_

_XD_

_The words that must appear within this story are:_

_Pineapple_

_Lace_

_Tombstone_

_Hat_

_Gift Voucher_

_wOOt. Prepare for me to totally cheat. XP_

_

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_

**Part 1**

It was cold. Like, _cold_, even for a shitty icicle stand like South Park. After loitering on Kyle's front porch, exchanging heated arguments as to who would brave the snow to start their fort, (_You go first fatass; No, pick Kenneh, he's poor; Mhhhh-HMMMMM!) _ they decided it would be way cooler to make one inside.

After all, as Stan pointed out, _every_ male in South Park would be making forts in the snow, patiently waiting for bubble headed girls to walk past so they could get a face full of mushy ice. It took major skill to be able to lob snowballs at the passing girls from the warm comfort of Kyle's lounge room.

The boys all agreed, and retreated to their own homes to find supplies and defences.

It was a sweet way to spend a morning after a snowstorm, but as Kyle looked up from arranging the dining room chairs to make a lookout, he got the feeling Cartman was taking the entire thing a tad too seriously.

"Dude, a pineapple?"

Kyle lifted an eyebrow at Cartman, who was lugging the prickly fruit into his lounge room. The boy deposited it on Kyle's rug, and threw an irritated look over his shoulder at said Jew.

"Ehy? Why the fuck not?"

"Cause, dumbass, how is a _pineapple_ going to make a good defence for a fort?"

Cartman blinked.

"Khal. Dude. Have you ever seen one of these things thrown at a guy? Lethal at 20 paces, I'm tellin ya."

"Whatever."

"I'm seriously. Watch."

Cartman lifted the pineapple gingerly, weighing it in his hand, a look of sheer determination etched into his chubby features as he took up a position to Kyle's right; scanning the snow covered front lawn for trespassers. Kyle rolled his eyes, and continued stacking chairs.

"It's not even the season for pineapples. No wonder it'll kill someone if you throw it; it'll be as hard as rock."

Cartman didn't move, pineapple hoisted above his head, poised. "Khal, I swear to god, I will kick you in the nuts if you don't shut up."

Kyle sighed as the front door slammed closed, signalling the arrival of Stan and Kenny. He smiled from his perch as the two boys entered; Stan helping Kenny carry a large piece of concrete. They placed it against the doorway, panting a little from the effort.

"Hey d-"

Kyle was cut off by Cartman emitting a forced-sounding yell, and a pineapple whizzing past his right ear. Before he could react, the deadly fruit collided with Kenny's face, green spindles impaling his eyes and nasal cavities. Kenny let out a muffled screech, and fell over onto the carpet, blood turning the otherwise unharmed fruit red.

"Oh my god! You killed Kenny!" Stan accused, flicking pieces of Kenny's forehead off his jacket sleeve. He whipped off his hat to inspect it for any Kenny carnage, but it was clean. Sighing in relief, he securely fixed it back onto his head.

"You bastard." Kyle spat. The force of Cartman's throw had caused some remnants of Kenny's brains to splash up onto the wall; and it took _weeks_ to get bloodstains out. Kyle was not going to hear the end of it from his mother.

Cartman shrugged.

"Told you, Jew. Lethal at 20 paces. Next time you better believe me when I say pineapples are dangerous shit to be throwing around."

He waved a finger at Kyle like the redhead was a puppy who had shat on the rug, and began the retrieval of his pineapple from (what was left of) Kenny's head.

But before Kyle could even get properly mad, Stan's fingers twinned around his wrist. The raven haired boy gave him a look, and shook his head.

_You don't want to fight this battle Kyle. Not with Cartman throwing pineapples._

Kyle narrowed his eyes, and blew out a held breath.

_He's the world's biggest douche._

Stan's fingertips squeezed for a microsecond, and then he dropped Kyle's hand.

_Save it for your Mom._

It was good advice, Kyle had to admit, smiling a little in spite of himself.

"You guys... come over here... and hold Kenneh down while I pull."

The two looked over at Cartman. He was sitting cross legged on the floor; the pineapple in both hands, Kenny's head between his thighs, his pudgy calves pressing down onto Kenny's neck. He would pull the pineapple, but then Kenny's head would come with it, ending up embedded in his crotch. Kyle and Stan winced; this was possibly Kenny's worst death out of them all.

"No way Cartman. You threw it; you get it out of Kenny's head." Stan said firmly.

"Yeah dude. Stan, come help me get the snowballs, we can stick them in my Dad's cooler so they won't melt."

"Sure thing dude."

They left for the garage, with the farewell of; "You guys.... are such.... _assholes_..." ringing down the hall.

* * *

_Woo! There were two in there; three more to go._

_XD_


End file.
